Lament: The Faerie Queen's Deception

“The sort of aunt that’s in storybooks,” I said. “If they put evil aunts in storybooks. She and my mom have never gotten along.”

Even from here, I could hear Delia’s loud voice as she told someone how Mom had been quite talented in her youth, but had never done anything with it. Bitch, I thought uncharitably.

“I just thought a very uncharitable thing about a family member,” I admitted.

Luke leaned in, close enough that I could smell his faintly musky odor—nothing like an herb, nothing like any high-school boy—and whispered, “Did it start with a B? I thought it, too.”

I laughed, loud enough that Delia looked up at me. She made motions for me to come over, but I pretended to be looking past her into the food tent. “Hurry. Pretend you’re pointing something out so I can pretend to not see her.”

Luke put a hand on my shoulder and pointed with the other toward the sky. “Look, the moon.”

“That was the best you could come up with?” I demanded. But I looked at it anyway—pale, mysterious, hanging in blue instead of black. Once again I felt I could look at it forever, or at least until I could remember why I wanted to look at it. “It’s beautiful, though, isn’t it?”

I didn’t think he was looking at the moon anymore, but he said, “Very.”

I kept gazing up. “This will sound stupid, but—it makes me feel funny.” The same way Luke made me feel funny.

“That’s because it’s from the night. The night keeps secrets.”

Luke kept secrets as well, didn’t he? Secrets we both pretended he didn’t have.

“Very poetic.”

“I can be very literary when I want to be. I’m a very complex person. Like yourself, I have hidden depths.”

I looked down. “Awww, you think I have hidden depths? That’s awfully sweet.” His eyes shifted from me to a point just behind me, and I turned to see what he saw.

A very tall, very blond woman was approaching us with a modelesque stride. She was as fair as an Easter lily, with perfect blue eyes and a perfect snowy neck. My dress suddenly felt shabby.

“Eleanor,” Luke said, face expressionless.

“Luke. How wonderful to see you again.” She placed her hands on his shoulders and kissed him on the cheek, running a finger down to his chin. I looked away. “It seems like forever.”

“Yes.”

“Well, you’re not in a very good mood tonight, are you?” Eleanor said. “I’d have thought you’d be in heaven with all this good music.”

Luke didn’t reply.

“Especially you, Deirdre. You played beautifully. We all were amazed by how you played.”

I looked up at the sound of my name and was blinded by her radiant smile. Still, for all her beauty, it was just another compliment. “Thanks. Luke helped a lot.”

Eleanor turned her smile to Luke, who still had that strange, expressionless face. “Oh yes, Luke helps out a lot.” She smiled at him. “Luke, dear, you don’t believe in small talk?”

Luke’s voice was flat. “How’s work.”

She laughed. It was annoyingly beautiful. “Going very well.”

He raised an eyebrow. “How’s the boss?”

Eleanor studied her gently sculpted nails. “Oh, more like a co-worker these days, I should say.”

“That must be thrilling.”

“The masses appreciate someone like them.” She gestured to herself. “Someone like me.”

Luke said, “How lucky for both of you.”

“Oh, I think so, lamb.” She turned to me. “Well, you’re certainly a rising star. I’ll be watching you.”

Beside me, Luke stiffened.

“It was very nice to meet you, Deirdre. Have a lovely evening.” She touched Luke’s cheek again. “And I’ll see you again, Luke.”

After she’d gone, I looked at Luke, biting my lip before speaking. “Ex-girlfriend?”

Luke’s eyes widened and he laughed. “That,” he said, “Would be a terrible thing to wish on a man. No. Remember that storybook that would have Delia in it? Eleanor belongs in it as well. Think of her as an evil godmother.”

I relaxed. I shouldn’t be thinking of Luke that way at all, considering how long I’d known him. But still, the idea of having Eleanor as competition had momentarily floored me.

“Evil godmother is much better than ex-girlfriend.” What makes you so different, Luke, that I should give a rat’s butt either way?

Luke glanced over at me. “Oh yeah?”

I looked away, losing my bravado, and nodded shyly. “Yeah.”

I became aware that the speakers from the awards tent had been blaring for quite some time. “Second place in solo performance to Carmen Macy.” There was polite clapping from behind us.

We walked silently over to Mom, and stopped when we realized that she was speaking to someone and that Delia had gone quite still.

“—I heard her play this evening, and I just wanted to say that I am quite blown away by her talent. She and her friend are just the sort of people we’re looking for. Please, please, take my card and do give us a call.”

I looked at the man who was speaking. His pleasant voice belied his image, which was that of a bare-knuckle fighter. Though he was wearing a button-down shirt, the sleeves couldn’t hide his enormous biceps and muscled chest. He wasn’t like any school representative I’d ever imagined.

“First prize in ensemble goes to Andrew Manx, Tina Chin—” the speaker blared, but Mom’s voice seemed louder. “Well, thanks. We’ll definitely take a look.”

Mr. Gigantic Muscles gave me a small nod before looking back to Delia and Mom. “Well, I know you’ve had a long day, so I’ll let you go get a well-deserved rest. They should be announcing the grand prize very soon, shouldn’t they? Enjoy the reception.”

Mom exchanged a look with me and then stared at Delia after the man had gone.

There was more clapping behind us as awards were read. I was surprised to find that I didn’t really care if I won anything. The competition seemed so insignificant—so ordinary—in comparison to the here and now, standing next to Luke and looking at the business card the conservatory representative had left.

“Thornking-Ash,” Delia read from the card. She sniffed. “Sounds like a funeral home.”

I sniffed, too, but only because I smelled the same herbal smell as before. Was that freak still here?